


Fool's Gold

by mirandamyth



Series: Insurance 'verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Dean/Cas, Bad Relationship, Blow Jobs, F/M, If You Squint - Freeform, Las Vegas, Las Vegas Wedding, Marriage, Sam works at a diner, Stripper, bad choices, definite humor, not really that much college focus, possibly some sex, there's some porn in there, woop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-06-09 23:08:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6927970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirandamyth/pseuds/mirandamyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ballad of Sam and Ruby. Or, how Sammy married a stripper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam sighs in relief as the last of the college crowd stumbles out. He's bussing the third table tonight with strange dish sculptures, but when Tamara catches his eye and signals about a smoke, he just sends a thumbs up her way. The place is deserted anyway. They might get another rush, but he doubts it. The end of finals partiers are probably all on their way home, the call of uninterrupted sleep irresistible. He finally finishes getting the place into some kind of order when she walks in. Her dress clings to her — she's all black sequins and tan skin.

She takes a seat at the counter, spinning in the stool to face him, "What's a girl gotta do to get some French fries around here?"

He sends the order back to Isaac, "Anything else?"

"Chocolate milkshake." She winks at him, "And maybe your number."

Sam feels the heat creeping into his face and quickly busies himself with making her shake. All too soon he's placing it down in front of her, fighting to keep the stammer from his voice "Y-Your fries'll be up in a minute."

"And your number, hot stuff? That'll be up in a minute too?" There's a devilish glint in her eyes, and Sam runs his fingers through his hair with a grin.

"Well, I guess if you really want it."

"Order up!" Isaac yells from the kitchen, sliding the steaming plate of fries through the window.

Ruby quirks up an eyebrow, "You gonna get those? I really am willing to kill for fries right now."

He brings them over and prints out her bill, pausing to write " _785-555-2629 ― Sam Winchester"_

"You're a long way from Kansas there, Dorothy." She smirks "Auntie Em must be worried."

"How'd you—"

"Know you were from Kansas? The area code, dummy. You want a fry?"

Sam grins and takes one, pulling a chair behind the counter to sit opposite her, making his own milkshake and topping hers off. They talk well into the morning, he tells her about Dean, about Bobby and Ellen, about his law school dreams. She tells him about her job as a shot girl, dropping out of community college, her dream to become an actress.

They talk past the time that Sam's relief comes in, reeking of pot and bleary eyed. Just as the usual early birds start to roll in she stands, "Looks like it's time for me to go home."

"Oh." Sam's face falls minutely, and he misses the way her eyes zero in on his disappointment.

She slips back into the black stilettos she'd kicked off hours ago, "You comin', Kansas?"

 He follows her eagerly, out the door of the diner and into the quickly retreating night. He climbs into her car without question and the grin on her face is almost predatory. She drives him back to her place — a basement level one bedroom on the outskirts of town. Once inside, he barely has time to register the door locking behind him before she's pulling him down for a kiss. One touch of her lips ignites a fire in him and he reaches down to hoist her up, thumbs slipping just under the hem of her dress. She wraps her legs around him eagerly, lets him shimmy her dress up over her hips, her stomach, her head.  She moves to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them with focused precision, grinding herself against him just to catch his groan with a kiss.

She pushes his shirt down off his shoulders, and whispers in his ear, "Bedroom's the second door on the left."

She wraps her arms around him, lips nipping and sucking at his neck, his collarbone. She can feel the sound that comes from him when she applies a little pressure at the edge of his jaw, and it gets him moving, pushing his way into her bedroom. He drops them onto her bed, and she's reaching down, unbuttoning his pants and using her feet to push them down. They get tangled around his knees, but she figures it's good enough, and raises her pelvis to grind against Sam's already obvious arousal. His hands find their way to the band of her thong, working his fingers underneath to run lightly around her clitoris before plunging inside of her, twisting until he hits that spot that makes her back arch off the bed and her hips twitch. He reaches behind her and simply grips the back of her bra — pulling it over her head and tossing it behind him. He catches a nipple in his mouth, sucking lightly as he works it with his teeth.

She grips him firmly by the hair and pulls him up for a kiss, using the momentary imbalance of movement to throw him over and climb on top. She sits back on his thighs and slips her fingers under the band of his boxers. She pulls them down agonizingly slow, the drag of elastic against his hard cock tantalizing. She raises herself up and reaches toward her bedside table locating the familiar foil packet quickly. She tears it open with her teeth before slowly rolling the condom onto him. He thinks he might die. She's barely touched him, but every brush of bare skin drives him wild. She crawls back up, getting herself into position before sinking down on him, enveloping him in tight, wet heat. There's something animalistic about what they do together, something primal. She's whispering deliciously dirty things in his ear as her hips rock against his shallowly. It's both too much and not enough. He rolls them over and sets a more rewarding pace, driving into her as she chants curses like prayers.

He feels her freeze, toes curling against his calves, He can feel the tremble in her thighs, knows she's close. On impulse, he whispers in her ear, "Come."

As she flexes and tightens around him, howling out through her orgasm, he can hold his own back no longer, a few shallow thrusts later, he's coming himself.


	2. Chapter 2

It's noon by time Sam leaves her place. He takes the bus, reveling in the memory of tan skin, basking in the afterglow of what had been an unexpectedly spectacular morning. He walks the last three blocks to the small house he shares with his brother. He stops short when he sees the Impala sitting in the driveway. He hadn't expected Dean to be home, he's usually at work on Saturday afternoons. He thought he'd be able to come home in last night's clothes unnoticed. Sam sighs, maybe Dean's sleeping. He could still manage to get through this without harassment. He has no such luck — Dean pokes his head around the kitchen wall at the sound of the front door, takes one looks at Sam and breaks into a grin, "Sammy, you dog. Pickin' up chicks at work."

"Shut up, Dean." But the grin is still on his face.

"I'm just applauding your skills, man. Good to see I passed on my wisdom."

"Jerk," Sam throws over his shoulder as he retreats, but not quickly enough to miss the "Bitch" Dean calls back.

He's just closed his bedroom door behind him when his phone chimes in his pocket.

_775-555-0275_

_> My name's Ruby, by the way._

Embarrassment races through him, but he shoots back an apology (and saves the number) before plugging his phone into the charger and heading for the shower. As he shampoos his hair, he racks his brain as to what his brother is doing home today. It's not til he's shaving what little stubble he has that it hits him. Cas is getting here today. Probably any minute. Dean took off specially, weeks ago. He should have remembered; Dean's had the date marked on the calendar for months, but he'd been so wrapped up in finals, and, last night, in Ruby, it must have slipped his mind.

He returns to his room and two missed text messages.

_Ruby_

_> It's ok, we did get a little preoccupied last night_

_Ruby_

_> what are you doing tonight?_

She invites him to a party, and his heart races. She wants to see him again? So soon? He quickly agrees and asks if she'll be picking him up. He sits on his bed texting her until he's dry, never having bothered putting clothes on. He can't decide if that's a good or bad thing when she starts sending him pictures.

By time Sam makes it downstairs, Cas has arrived. He and Dean are in the kitchen, silently holding beers and making eye contact. Sam clears his throat, and their gazes turn to him, "Hey, Cas. How was your flight?"

"Long and uneventful. How did your finals go, Sam?" Cas smirks, "Dean says you celebrated last night."

Sam glances toward his brother, who seems far too interested in the ceiling to meet his eyes. "I guess they went well. I mean I did my best, so I'm sure it'll be ok."

"Sammy's just being modest, he aced them, for sure."

"Speaking of celebrations, though, you guys don't mind if I go to a party tonight? I know it's your first night in town, Cas, but I figure you guys have a lot of catching up to do."

They don't mind. And Sam's summer begins. That June, there's always a party; when he works, she often waits out the end of his shift, eating fries at the counter, mocking customers, complaining about how dead town is when the students go home for the summer. It's a whirlwind of nights and early mornings, endless hours of Ruby. She takes him to clubs, breezing past bouncers with a wink. It's as if the whole world is before him on a platter and all he has to do is reach out and take. By July, she's introducing him as her _boyfriend._

She introduces him to ecstasy at a rave in August. She kisses him and he tastes something bitter on her tongue, but it doesn't matter because soon everything feels so amazing. He feels strong and invincible. But most of all he feels the need to experience it all, to feel and taste everything. When she asks him to eat her out in the backseat of her car as the sun is coming up, he takes to it with gusto.

He doesn't introduce her to Dean until September, when she invites herself along to Vegas. He and Dean have been planning this for a year, vacation taken and hotels all booked since May. He tells her three days before they're supposed to be leaving, and she immediately starts searching for flights.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, I'm not gonna drive down to Vegas. You guys have fun with that. Did you book two rooms, or should I book us another one?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully only one more chapter, why Sam/Ruby is my muse rn when I have other shit to work on, the world may never know


	3. Chapter 3

He doesn't know how to broach the topic with his brother, so he doesn't. At least not until they're pulling up to their hotel and she's waiting outside.

"Don't be mad — Ruby's here."

"What the hell, Sam? This is _our_ trip. I didn't bring Cas."

"How is it even similar? She's my girlfriend, Dean, and she wanted to come." Sam gets out of the car with that, cutting his brother short before he's even formulated a proper response. Dean hands his car off to the valet ("She comes back with a scratch, and I'll have your job. Don't go thinking I don't know exactly how many miles she's got on her, either.") but Sam misses all of that. Ruby had thrown her arms around him when he reached her, pulling him down for a kiss that was a little too filthy for a hotel patio. But, hey, when in Vegas. Dean drops Sam's suitcase on his foot. "Ow, Jesus, Dean."

"C'mon Sammy, we gotta check in."

"I'm sure you can handle it yourself, big boy. Sammy here has some pretty important stuff to take care of." One of her hands has worked its way between them, toying at his waist band and Sam is suddenly very on board with letting Dean check in for them. He throws his brother a thumbs up before allowing Ruby to drag him off, and if Dean's grin looks more like a grimace, well, Dean has abandoned him to hook up more times than Sam can count. It serves him right. She lets him come in her mouth in an empty conference room off the lobby, and he doesn't think he's ever felt this way about anyone else, ever.

After, she kisses him and pulls a little bag out of her purse. She sets two lines out on the table, nice and straight, before pulling Sam's money clip from his pocket. She finds the crispest bill and rolls it carefully into a straw. She does hers first, inhaling deeply. She straightens up and sniffles lightly, before giving a little shake. "Your turn, Sammy," she grins wolfishly at his obvious discomfort, "Don't go getting all straight edge on me now, you haven't exactly been a DARE poster child for a while now. It's just blow."

Sam flushes, but takes the bill from her, rolling it a little tighter. He does his first line of cocaine quickly and without finesse. But the head rush that follows is amazing. Sam feels strong, like he could do anything. Like no one could turn him down, nothing could stop him. And somehow the words just fall out of him, "Marry me."

It's a whirlwind from there, Ruby grins and he's lost. He barely remembers sending Dean a text to meet him at the chapel. They're told to wait half an hour and given a list of theme options. They pick the first one that isn't overtly horrible, and spend the rest of the time pressing each other against the changing room walls. They both look well and thoroughly debauched when they're called by the minister. Dean arrives just as they're taking their places, and Sam runs down the aisle to drag his brother to the front, pinning a carnation on the suit Dean's already wearing.

"Dude, what the hell?"

"I'm getting married. I love Ruby and I'm gonna marry her." Sam smiled, "I just wanted you to be here."

The ceremony is rushed and tacky, the minister impatient,  the sound of the organist snapping her gum louder than the actual organ. Sam just smiles through it and kisses Ruby soundly at the end. There are photographs, just quick snapshots without warning, and Dean looks constipated and unhappy in all three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more. Just one, and I think this Sam/Ruby bone my muse has been picking will be clean.

**Author's Note:**

> Really wasn't planning on the porn, just kind of happened. Not even a Sam/Ruby shipper in any way. Oops.


End file.
